Dragon of the South
by Biomonkey
Summary: Sokka and Bending don't mix. At least, that's how it's supposed to be. But with a revelation from Jeong Jeong, Sokka has little choice but to master his element, and fulfill his destiny alongside the Avatar... crap.
1. Chapter 1

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Disclaimer: I own nothing.

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_Okay, so why does the crazy man want to talk to me, and why does he have to be such a jerk about it?_

These were the questions Sokka asked to himself as he made his way to the hut of the "enlightened" Firebending master, Jeong Jeong. He had just been minding his own business, fishing in the river nearby and content to let Katara practice her waterbending, and let Aang learn Firebending from the hermit. His content was subsequently destroyed when said hermit snuck up behind him and barked about discussing something in Jeong Jeong's hut.

Now, normally, he would just ignore the man and go back to what he was doing, but Katara was just a little ways down the shore and managed to overhear old coot. So now he pretty much had to do what the old man ordered or he'd get _The Stare_, since his dear, deluded sister bought in to the whole "reformed fire nation soldier" bit. Sokka of course knew there was no such thing, and awaited the inevitable betrayal so they could make their way to the North Pole (like they should already be doing), and also so he could gloat that he was right about it being a bad idea to let Aang train with this guy.

_Wait a sec, where is Aang anyway?_

Now Sokka's big brother instincts kicked in. Granted, he hadn't known the Avatar for long, but the kid had managed to endear Sokka to consider the boy something of a little brother. An annoyingly naive and overly-trusting little brother. Flashes of Jeong Jeong pushing the trusting Aang off of the cliff he had taken him to train on half an hour earlier flashed through Sokka's mind, and he had to force himself to calm down. Aang was pretty tough, especially with his Airbending. Sokka trusted that the kid would have made a lot of ruckus if he were in trouble. But just to be sure, the Water Tribe warrior took a moment to make sure he had his boomerang on him.

_Better to be safe than sorry, after all._

Certain that he could defend himself if necessary, he took a moment to ready himself for the inevitably annoying conversation that would soon follow and entered the candle-lit bamboo hut that served as Jeong Jeong's home. Within sat the hermit, his back turned to Sokka, surrounded only by the glow of candles. Probably to make himself seem more mysterious and wise, the young man thought with an internal snort.

Sokka stood for a few moments, waiting for the old man to start whatever discussion he wanted to have. After roughly half a minute of uncomfortable silence, the teen crossed his arms impatiently and decided to address the Deserter, "So, are you just gonna sit there trying to seem impressive? Or are you gonna get on with whatever you wanted to talk about before you die of old age?"

Sure it was rude, but he was talking to a member of Fire Nation, there was only so much goodwill he could give them, given past experiences.

Jeong Jeong didn't respond immediately, instead taking taking a few deep breaths and slowly releasing them. His back still to Sokka, he spoke, "It is a little known fact that the power to command one of the elements, bending, is not necessarily bound to its respective land. It is rarely seen, so much so that it believed to be a simple myth, but I know it to be true. Citizens of Fire Nation capable of bending earth, Water Tribesmen commanding the winds, they all possessed ancestry of their bending element somewhere in their line. In old times, they represented the bonds between their respective homelands, often acting as diplomats and working to keep the peace between their two peoples. Such men and women have not been seen in many years, at least publicly, the xenophobia between countries likely making them hide their gifts."

At this point, Sokka knew for certain he wasn't going to like this conversation, even if he wasn't entirely sure where it was going. "Okay, back in the good old days, bending wasn't restricted to a certain nation, and everything was sunshine and koallaotters. Why are you telling this to me, and not Aang, who might care about this information?"

"Because, boy, it relates to you," Jeong Jeong said sharply, having little patience for the boy's cheek.

Sokka could easily guess what the old man was implying, as he crossed his arms and replied, "I'm fairly certain it doesn't. I'm not now, nor have ever been, a bender of any kind. I'm pretty sure I'd know if I was."

Jeong Jeong turned to face Sokka, his face conveying his seriousness, "My senses have never failed me before, boy. They told me of Aang's lack of discipline and training in the other bending arts, just as they tell me now that you yourself are a bender. Even now, I can see your inner fire. It is suppressed, but it burns strong. You, Sokka, are a Firebender."

There wasn't much Sokka could do at this point than simply gape at Jeong Jeong, trying to process what he just heard. As he thought on it more and more, he came to a logical conclusion.

_Jeong Jeong is crazy._

Snickering to himself, then falling into outright laughter, Sokka didn't immediately see the tightening of the old masters face in displeasure. After his fit of hysterics settled down, he finally noticed the sober expression on Jeong Jeong's face.

"You have the Inner Fire, boy, and to tame it you will need training--"

"I don't have any 'Inner Fire', so save your breath and go back to training Aang," Sokka interupted, have enough of the man's insanity and got ready to leave. Unfortunately, Jeong Jeong was persistent.

"You would so easily endanger your friends by denying what you are? If you do not gain discipline that is what will happen. You should be honored for a chance to learn Firebending from a master."

"I'm not a Firebender!" Sokka remarked loudly. The man's persistence on the delusional thought that the Water Tribesman was a firebender of all things was starting to get on his nerves.

"Who are you trying to convince, boy?" Jeong Jeong asked, his own anger rearing, "You may claim otherwise, but deep down you know what you are. There is no other way for you to suppress your Inner Fire for so long without knowledge of it!

"All potential benders use their powers subconsciously in times of great emotion, it is often how they are discovered, and training is what suppresses the habit. Your fire is being held back, barely, I might add. If you do not accept your heritage and take my training, you will only bring your friends pain when you finally lose control!" By this time, The Deserter's voice was raising near the point of yelling.

Sokka wanted to yell, he wanted to scream that the old fool was wrong, but he restrained himself. Fisting his hands, he fell back on the method he had always known of calming himself down to tackle the man's accusations with logic. Within his head, he began to sing a lullaby from his childhood.

"Now you try to hold it back, boy? Scared that I'm right?" Jeong Jeong's cutting voice, tinged with smugness, did not help in restraining Sokka's anger. The old Firebender smirked to himself, knowing that with a little more prodding, the boy wouldn't be able to deny what he was any longer.

Jeong Jeong bellowed at the irate Water Tribesman, "You are one of us! You are a Firebender! Admit it!"

"SHUT UP!" Sokka yelled, the cheery orange glow of the room's many candles became a white hot fury that matched the mood of its instigator.

The candles raging flames stopped as quickly as they began, and silence reigned for a time. Sokka couldn't form words in his wide-eyed shock.

_I gotta get out of here_

His movements jerky and rigid, he made his way out of the hut, only to be stopped by the subdued, almost apologetic voice of Jeong Jeong.

"Boy... Sokka," the old master began, "I know this is hard for you, but you must learn control, or your Inner Fire will consume you. If you are willing, I will help you as best I can. You may take time to think about it."

Sokka said nothing, but the tension easing out of his form spoke for him. He continued out of the hut and, ignoring the look of concern on Katara's face as she asked what was wrong, made his way from the camp further up the shore.

He had a lot to think about.

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Author's Notes: Since this is my first foray into fanfiction land, I would appreciate any constructive criticism you have to offer. Also, many thanks to the Sokka-centered one-shot "Juiced" for inspiring me, and to Isumo 1849 for acting as beta and offering excellent creative advice.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

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Katara stopped practicing at the shore the moment she heard her brother's shout. Quickly moving towards its source she saw Sokka come out with a very un-Sokka-like expression on his face. She had never seen her brother so downtrodden, at least in front of her. Usually he'd act overconfident or make a wise-crack or unwittingly act like a fool in serious situations. She knew he did it was just an act to make her forget about their problems momentarily or to cover his own feelings. Usually. The incident with the two fish hooks in his thumb was just Sokka's clumsiness and... unique way of problem-solving. But it was one of the qualities Katara loved about her brother. But now, all she could see was a sadness that showed in his features body language as he walked down the shoreline.

Clamping down on her first instinct to run after him, she decided to get some answers from Jeong Jeong first. Katara didn't have to wait long as the old Firebender came out of his hut. He too seemed rather subdued as he stared at her brother's retreating form. But while Katara was considerate to the feelings of others, family came first. And she wanted answers

"What did you say to him?" the young Waterbender asked, her features accusing.

"I merely enlightened the boy to a few truths," Jeong Jeong said simply, "You would do well to leave him be for the moment, and allow him time to think on our discussion."

"That doesn't answer my question."

"It wasn't meant to," the Firebender stated. At Katara's continued looks of frustration, he sighed and continued, "I informed your brother that he possesses a rare gift not seen in many, many years. He, however, does not see it as a blessing, and I do not blame him... The Inner Fire is a difficult burden to bear. I cannot imagine what it must be like for someone who has already been burned by it."

_Inner Fire...?_

Before Katara could ask what he meant by that, the Deserter had already re-entered his hut

Confusion now added to her worry, Katara debated whether or not to take Jeong Jeong's advice and let her brother be. She decided - grudgingly - that she would wait half an hour before confronting Sokka.

Nodding assuredly to herself, she went back to her Waterbending exercises.

She later decided ten minutes was more than enough time, and headed off to find her brother.

It wasn't a difficult search. His slouching form was sitting on a rock just outside of view from the camp, tossing pebbles every now and again into the stream.

Katara sat down beside him, and a silence followed.

It was a few minutes before she decided to try and talk to her brother, "Hey..."

"...Hey," was Sokka's quiet reply.

Choosing to bite the bullet sooner rather than later, the Waterbender took a breathe and continued, "So... what did Jeong Jeong say that has you so down?"

"He told me I'm a traitor," said Sokka, tossing another rock into the stream.

Of all the responses that could have come from her brother, that was the one she least expected.

"Excuse me?" was Katara's understandably flabbergasted reply.

"I'm a traitor. To everything our village and our Dad fights for," the morose teen dropped his head into his hands, "Spirits, when Dad finds out..."

"When he finds what out, Sokka? You're not making any sense!" she said worriedly.

This wasn't right. Her brother brooded before, but he was never like... this.

The concerned sibling placed a comforting hand on her brother's shoulder, "Sokka, you can tell me. You're my brother, nothing Jeong Jeong told you will change that."

Despite her assurances, Sokka's next words stopped her dead, "I'm a Firebender."

Katara's mind went a mile a minute, her thoughts a jumble. The most prominent of these was, _How?_

She must have said it out loud, since he answered, "Something about extinct diplomats. You'd have to ask the Fire - ... You'd have to ask Jeong Jeong."

After the initial shock wore off, the next question that slipped from her mouth was, "Are you sure?"

Not the most tactful question in the world, but it was enough to draw a semi-amused snort from her brother. Katara took it as a good sign.

"Positive. I made the old guy's candles go _fwoosh _and everything," Sokka returned, a little snark, a little _life _in his voice.

Cheered on slightly by her brother's words, she worked to bring him further out of his funk, "So you're moping over making some candles go 'fwoosh'?"

Apparently it was the wrong thing to say, as Sokka replied, "No, I'm moping because I just found out that I'm the thing I hate the most."

As much as she wanted to help Sokka, Katara was a little lost as for what to do next. He was already slipping back into self-loathing, something she really did not want for her brother. So, taking a page from his book, she decided to wing it.

"Well, try and look at the positives. You have a new way to fight against the Fire Nation... and... uh... You'll be able to warm yourself up when it gets really cold...?"

_Okay, different approach._

"Look, Sokka, just because you're a Firebender doesn't mean we'll love you less. It doesn't bother me. And you know Aang will be excited to have someone to train with," her brother smirked a little at that, "And Dad and Gran Gran would never hate you. Ever."

The Water Tribesman had a small smile on his face, but something seemed to occur to him, as it fell slightly, "But what about everyone else? The other warriors, the rest of the tribe? Would they accept me, knowing what I am? We aren't very friendly to anything associated with fire."

It was true. Fire was a tool, a necessity that wasn't to be taken lightly or enjoyed, lest it consume you. The only time fire was celebrated was during the ceremonies before warriors set sail.

The whole tribe would be gathered around the bonfire, and their father would tell of the first Fire Nation attacks. He would begin with the raids that destroyed the Southern Water Temple, and of how our ancestors survived, even scattered in the harsh winter. He would then go on to tell of how they banded together again to drive off their fire-wielding enemies, despite being outnumbered and out-armed. As the story was being told, others would burn various Fire Nation materials: old weapons and armor (too old to be of use; the Water Tribe never wasted) and ended with the flag of their enemy.

The ceremony was meant to stir up the warriors. Remind them why they fought, and why the Fire Nation had to be stopped. It worked well.

"They know the kind of person you are, Sokka, they wouldn't hate you," Katara comforted, then smirked, "And if they did, they'd have to deal with me, Dad, and Aang."

This time Sokka really did smile, "Thanks, Katara. Really."

She returned it easily, "It's what I do."

Tossing one last rock into the stream, Sokka stood up and grinned, "Well, all that brooding makes me hungry! When's dinner?"

Taking his cue, Katara swatted his shoulder and mock scolded, "You only ate a few hours ago!"

"I'm a growing warrior! I need to keep up my energy!"

Katara knew Sokka wasn't as carefree as he was acting, not even her brother could bounce back that quickly. But he was strong. He'd get through this, and master his newfound element.

It was then that she was struck with a horrifying conclusion. _Sokka _was going to be able to toss around _fire_.

_Sokka_. The guy who tried to get a fish hook out of his finger by using another fish hook.

_There is no way this can end well_, the now morose Waterbender reflected as she walked back to camp, her brother babbling on about all the delicious foods he wanted to eat.

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Authors Note: I know I kinda glossed over the angst, and it was intentional choice. While I do like inner conflict (which there will be, don't worry), I draw the line at wrist-cutting, MCR-listening, and general waste of space mopiness. Also, reviews are the fuel that keeps me alive, so please write them.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

AN: Wow. Three months and no update. I beg for your mercy, people! My only plea for staving off the thrown tomatoes is that since this is NaNo month, I'll be working more on my story, and hopefully take less than three months before I update again. As always, reviews are begged for.

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Sokka stood, rubbing the sweat out of his eyes, and gazed onto the vast grey desert. He could almost feel his skin frying from the sheer heat. He didn't know how long he'd been there: minutes, hours, days – it all ran together.

The sky was marred entirely by a coal blackness, save for the harsh red sun that beat him down. There were bones, bleached white from the sun, but no carrion birds. In this endless desert, not even scavengers could survive.

On and on it went. He heard something off in the distance; the familiar and soothing sound of the tides rushing in and out.

Stumbling forward, he made it over the last dune, and grinned through his cracked and dry lips. His ears hadn't lied. Not only was there water, -- the vast blue plain that embodied his tribe -- but also his family. Katara, Hakoda, Gran Gran, even his mother waved for him to come to the shoreline, to take their docked boats and leave this hell.

Stumbling over his own feet, he nearly shouted with joy. But as he got closer, something in their faces changed. They became guarded and wary. As he drew even closer, they became scared. He was mere feet from them now, and there was no smiles, no open arms. His sister and mother were held by Gran Gran, none of them even able to look on his face. His father and the other men of the tribe stood between him and the others, their faces grim.

Sokka was confused. He took a step forward to ask what was wrong, but was stopped by the point of his father's now-drawn spear. He couldn't hear the words coming from his father's mouth, but by the look on his face, they were not kind.

Sokka stumbled backwards, his face marred with hurt. He shouted, but this time, only fire came out. Now it was Hakoda's turn to fall backward, the flames nearly consuming him.

He rushed forward to help his father, but was cut off by a sharp pain in his chest. Looking down, he found that the tip of a spear had disappeared into the center of his ribcage. Following it to the source, it was Hakoda, his grim look replaced with something that hurt far more than any spear – rage. Viciously, his father ripped the weapon from his chest.

Falling to his knees, Sokka clutched the wound. But something felt wrong. Looking down, he saw not blood, but fire slip through his fingers.

It fell in droplets, and the moment they touched the moist sand of the shore, the fire grew. He saw Hakoda signal for the others to move back. The women and children – Katara included- hastily moved to board the boats.

The fire was faster.

The flame licked at the leg of Hakoda, and caught on the fabric. Hakoda tried to slap it out, but it just started burning his hands. His father's screams were silent.

Sokka reached out to help his father. Fire, bright and angry, leapt from his hands. The jet didn't just consume his father, but many of the boats. Sokka tried to yell "no!" only for flames to leave his mouth.

Everywhere he turned, it burned more. A twitch of his hand, and a Tribesman died. Fall to his knees, and a wave of fire bloomed from where he hit. It was all too quick before it covered everything in sight.

Sokka couldn't see what was happening through the flames, but he didn't need to. He could feel it. The fire consuming everything in its path: his family, his friends, the ocean itself. Sokka could feel it, as though the fire were an extension of his body. He was the one killing them.

Sokka screamed for it to stop. But fire doesn't stop until it's consumed all it can.

The fire burned out long before he stopped screaming.

Sokka stood, rubbing the sweat out of his eyes, and gazed onto the vast, grey desert…

Sokka awoke to a sharp pain in his chest, and shot up quickly. His hand reflexively grasping for a wound. He looked down to see his shirt, unharmed, and no fire-blood coming out. Just him, a burnt out campfire, a sleeping Aang and Momo to his left, and his sister – thankfully not ablaze – sleeping on his right.

"Firebenders rise with the sun."

And a grumpy firebending master whose sole purpose in life seems to be to make Sokka's miserable.

Placing his shaky hands on the ground and sitting himself up, Sokka looked towards the sun that had barely crested the horizon and shot back, "Well Sokka's rise when food is being cooked, no earlier.

To his right, Katara murmured, still half asleep, "Sokka, be respectful to master Jeong Jeong. He's taking the time to teach you and Aang."

Sokka flinched, but it wasn't at his sister's words. He could still feel what it was like for the flames to peel at her skin as she scr—Okay, no more bad thoughts. The old guy said heavy emotion leads to instances like what happened in the tent. Besides, brooding is more an angry jerk pastime.

Keeping his voice level, Sokka replied, "And I am grateful for that. I just want to wake up at a decent hour. It's important to growing men like me."

Katara rolled to face him, and sent him an exasperated look. "Oh, please. You'd sleep all day if you could."

Sokka was about to send back a brilliant and witty reply before Jeong Jeong cut in. "Enough. Boy, get up and begin your exercises by the river. Your partner will be joining you shortly."

Okay, the whole being ordered around by a Fire Nation soldier thing, former or no, was getting irritating. He did as told only because he knew Jeong Jeong would do more than kick him if he didn't follow orders when it came to training.

Jeong Jeong moved onto his other pupil and shook him awake. "Training begins now, Avatar."

"Hey! How come you shake Aang awake, but kick me?!"

"Because, unlike you, the Avatar is capable of speaking to me with a mediocrum of respect," Jeong Jeong returned dryly, before his voice became sharp again. "Now, get into your stance and practice your breathing!"

Sokka rolled his eyes. Maybe the old goat's offer of training was less of a kindness and more of a form of sadistic torture for him to impose on Water Tribesmen

It wasn't long before Aang joined him. The young bender was enjoying his training as much as Sokka, which wasn't much.

Sokka never really worried about what Aang would think when he found out the Water Tribesman was a Firebender, given the boys (infuriatingly) accepting nature. But as Sokka went to confront him that evening, he found out that he was spared the trouble of retelling his story again. Apparently, the old goat had already told Aang of his… condition after he agreed to train the young Airbender. At first Aang had been ecstatic about having a partner, and amicably chatted in his cheery way about how awesome it was. That enjoyment lasted only until Jeong Jeong cut in for them to start their breathing exercises. Sokka was even starting to feel a little less bad about being a Firebender too.

"Wider stance!"

Oh, yeah… Sokka was _so_ grateful for taking up the old masters offer.

*-*-*Zhao*-*-*

It was only a matter of time, Zhao mused as he dismissed Lieutenant Ji from his quarters.

He had learned from the town's guardsmen that the Avatar was nearby. But if the Lieutenant's reports were true, his old master could be hiding somewhere in the forests as well.

Were Zhao a more spiritual man, he would have believed Agni himself was smiling on him. But the Admiral had no cares for the spirits. He knew the only way to get power in this world was to grab it for himself.

He once thought his old master embodied that philosophy. A powerful Firebender, of low birth, no less, standing shoulder to shoulder with the social elite, obtaining the rank of General. Jeong Jeong was his guiding light as a boy.

Zhao was far from a noble. Born to a failing farming family, he had little to look forward to but for the stories of the great, implacable General Jeong Jeong. A Firebender of the people, taking on any who had talent for commanding positions, even over those who were born to the admiralty.

It was to that standard that Zhao held himself, and was what drove him to become part of the great Fire Navy. The thought of standing side by side with his hero spurred him on to put his all in to his training. Even as reports came in saying Jeong Jeong was changing for the worse – some incident involving a fire that killed his wife – Zhao didn't waver in his hero-worship. And almost a year after he joined, his hard work paid off. Or so he thought.

Jeong Jeong visited their outpost on his way back to the great capital, and on the pleading of their senior officer, was given a tour of their facility with hopes of impressing the great General and gain some favour.

The General was known for taking in recruits who impressed him in his travels, and many glory-seekers saw this as an opportunity to show of their skills. Zhao was no exception.

Zhao ended up facing three others, and while having put up a strong fight at first, was losing ground as he tired out. As his strength began to wane, he saw his hero walk in alongside his commanding officer, and Zhao panicked. This was his one chance, his only chance, to escape a life of mediocrity. His anxiety turned into determined fury. He would not fall. He would win, even if he killed himself trying.

With a roar, Zhao fought harder than ever before. He was a beast, his Firebending wild but strong. Zhao didn't recall how the fight ended

When he woke up, he was in the infirmary, and given news of his transfer to Jeong Jeong's command, as his apprentice no less! He would report to the capital when he recovered from his injuries.

The next weeks were a haze of euphoria as he readied himself for training under his hero. Zhao could taste his pending glories, the adventures and mysteries that awaited him.

It wasn't long before they became ashes in his mouth.

Jeong Jeong was a hard taskmaster, which Zhao expected. What he did not expect was the man's almost insane focus on the basics of control, something he had no use for. Repeatedly, Zhao told Jeong Jeong that he was more than ready to pursue more advanced forms, but the old man always refused. One day, Zhao asked why he would train him in the first place, if he had no intention of furthering his power. He received a verbal slap in the face.

"What makes you think I took you in because of your prowess?" Jeong Jeong had asked. "In your battle, you won only through your rage, which not only harmed your opponents, but put yourself in the infirmary! I'm training you to give you the control you so sorely lack. When you can prove to me you have learned control, then – and only then – will I teach you any further."

That did it – Zhao's views of his hero were shattered. The man that stood before him was no General, just a broken old has-been. Zhao transferred within the month.

With a fresh start, he gained a new resolve. If the old man lost the hope of the common people, Zhao would become that hope. As the years passed, he held himself to that standard, being the hero he had always believed Jeong Jeong to be.

It was what pushed him through the ranks. It was what made him promote only those who deserved it, despite the pressures and insults it earned him from the elite. Even as an admiral, he strived to be more. To capture the Avatar would cement his place in history as an example of hard work and tenacity. Putting the arrogant former prince in his place was just a bonus.

If he was unsuccessful, it would matter little. Zhao had other ways of ensuring his legacy.


End file.
